There is something so wonderfully ludicrous about voluntarily paying a substantial amount of money to spend the day relentlessly queuing up for things that are designed to frighten you!
The smell of chips wafts through the air, the happiest music plays on a loop, children run around with enough sugar in their bloodstream to power the park until closing time, and, in the distance, you can hear the screams of hundreds of people collectively questioning their life choices as they dangle over a 100-foot drop.
But how do you navigate a theme park when you can’t see?
Navigating a theme park
We all know that theme parks are ginormous, sprawling landscapes, full of rollercoasters, restaurants, toilets, shops and more bins than line my road on a Monday night ready for collection in the morning — in an even wider variety of colours!
As someone who was born severely sight-impaired, I have grown up having many varied experiences of attempting to get my bearings in amongst the jumbled joy of it all. While accessibility has improved over time in some ways, there is still a big difference between being granted practical access to the park and actually being able to have the time of your life.
It’s easy to associate theme park accessibility with the simple question of whether someone can physically get onto a ride, and yet, we all want far more from a legendary day out than that.
We want to be immersed in the entire experience. In order for that to be possible, we need to be able to comprehend the booking system, get around the park easily, understand what’s happening around us, access information, enjoy shows and attractions, interact with staff and generally be able to get as much out of our time there as anybody else.
If, before I even arrive, I have to fight a mighty battle in order to book, I may not even make it to the front gate. While website accessibility is getting better over time, information on how to book tickets for disabled visitors can be very well buried. When you can’t see as it is, that can be a real barrier.
Once you arrive, of course you need to find your way around. We know that theme parks often do this handy thing of providing their guests with a map. The only trouble is that when you’re blind or visually impaired, a map covered in tiny, colourful symbols and miniscule, squiggly text isn’t perhaps the helpful masterpiece its designer intended it to be.
Some parks are starting to realise this and travel in the direction of more accessible solutions. It’s hard to put into words what it means to me when I find out that there is a digital map available, which is customisable and compatible with my screen reader (Trevor is never off duty, even when I’m having fun!).
Sometimes there is even an audio guide of the park, including clear descriptions of major landmarks and routes or a tactile map I can feel.
These things help me to understand where I need to go, but they also give me the freedom to interact with the other people in my group and feel more part of the decision-making process — because, let’s face it, what’s a day out at an attraction like this, if at least some of it isn’t spent arguing about where would be best to go first?!
Even simple things like pathways which are clearly identifiable, steps which don’t blur into non-existence or staff who are trained to feel confident giving directions to someone who has limited sight are all absolute gamechangers.
In fact, the queues themselves can require their own feat of navigational expertise. For sighted visitors, a queue generally consists of a line of people standing between you and the ride. However, for someone like me with limited vision, it can often be an obstacle course featuring ropes, barriers, unexpected changes in terrain and many children frequently moving at speeds usually associated with small mammals!
Sometimes a theme park will offer an accessible queue, but ironically, I have found that many times the route you have to take on these is even more inaccessible and can be cluttered up with fast-pass carriers, making the system chaotic and more confusing than it needs to be.
Different solutions for different people
It’s also worth remembering, of course, that not every visually impaired person will need the same thing. Someone with some usable vision might very much benefit from high colour contrast signage, whereas someone who is totally blind may need verbal information or tactile cues. Much like the plastic ponchos this industry lovingly provides for the price of a luxury handbag, when it comes to accessibility, there is no such thing as one-size-fits-all.
For a long time, accessibility seemed to end as soon as the bar came down and you were all strapped in and ready to ride, but savvy theme park teams are starting to recognise the importance of the story.
Rides generally tell a tale, which is what makes them so compelling and holds your emotions captive. For me, this is where sound becomes so important.
Audio provides information that sighted visitors can see. This means that not only should safety announcements be clear and background music shouldn’t completely drown out important information, but the ride could be enormously enhanced with some audio description to help me become buy into and become consumed by the story, along with my friends.
This is also the case when it comes to shows, parades or spectacles. I want to experience and excitedly debrief about the epic pyrotechnics and incredible choreography with everybody else. Live audio descriptions can open the door to that for me and make me feel part of the magic of something special and memorable, like a fantastic firework show before the gates close.
These things don’t only benefit me, they make the parks more money through convincing me that I MUST go back for more!
How a lack of access can impact confidence
While disability has a practical impact on what my body can and can’t do, it also influences how I feel about myself, particularly in public spaces. Nobody wants to feel like a problem, least of all when we have all signed up for a day of fun.
Continually having to ask for help can chip away at your confidence, being stared at can make you extremely self-conscious, being talked about leaves you feeling invisible and being excluded from something that everybody else is enjoying can make you feel so desperately alone.
A theme park is supposed to be an escape from ordinary life. It should be exciting, ridiculous, loud, at times slightly nauseating and packed to the brim with distinctly dazzling and potent memories.
Everyone deserves to experience all of that, no matter your level of vision.
As someone with a disability, I don’t visit a theme park hoping their accessibility policy is compliant. No, I simply go hoping to have an absolutely marvellous time, and ideally leave with minimal bumps and bruising!
I want to enjoy the same wild day out as everybody else. I want to spend a small fortune, queue for at least forty-five minutes, get absolutely down-to-my-underwear soaked, lose my voice from screaming, win a giant, unidentifiable stuffed animal, indulge in an array of dangerously deep-fried snacks and check my bank account on the drive home to deduce just how quickly we can all go again.
– Hey, I’m Fern, and I’m a blind broadcaster, audio describer and guest blogger for VoiceBox. I love to share my experiences of media accessibility, audio description, events, festivals and more here. Oh, and you may see me refer to ‘Nancy’, my partner in crime and guide dog – adding her to my life was the best thing I ever did.